Danzō's Fall
by Daastan Go
Summary: All men fell, but some fell harder than others. A story of a man's journey to feel his inner-woman and beyond. (You never should assume a person's gender!)


**Danzō's** **Fall**

 **Disclaimer** : Naruto is Kishimoto's property. I'm not making any money from this story.

 **Warning** : Morbid Content. Reader discretion is advised.

 **AN** : Written at the cheeky request of ' **Coby** '.

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There were no drums of war this time, no sounds of drums rolling along the wind, striking it with a might that would shatter murmurings of men and galvanize them to draw their swords and strike at their foes with violence. Red would flow; the heat of battle would rise . . . to a peak and fade with the final fall of a victor's sword.

A cool wind rushed through him, his shirt rippling. Red had come out moments ago to bleed from his eyes. He would drown _him_ here in an ocean of reds, defeat them all, and scrub clean the name of the fallen in the wake of his brother's shadow. Yes, it would begin here, before the swelling of Konoha's screams tantalised the air to mimic his clan's tragedy like that night: the moon was high and blood was spilt in the name of this theatre's banner. All actors. All plays. Sick—they made him sick!

He had to say that he was surprised at the sight of him; he never expected the man to be so feeble and old: deep grooves mapped his dry skin whose musty odour proclaimed it to be beyond his time of youth. He was a food that had turned rotten. His body was not stiff, but a bundle of aged parts put together with the refreshing oil from a dastardly chakra—Uchiha and Senju, a foul mixture. It was not anything like his clan's: no, it was weak and haggard, an old toy discarded by the young hands of Nature.

But who would pick him up now but him? An abject arrogance permeated the man's old, old face—and why would it not? He had the anchor of Uchiha clan's, his clan's, eyes staring at him from his arm they thought to be their face. They missed the presence of mouths, and if granted tongues, they would speak of their woes before him; so silently they told and quietly he listened—to the soundless words of their sad and spectral mouths that lacked the forms Men possessed.

Grim shadows were dim in this light. Sun was high, and then it was low as it shone behind the curved back he had straightened with a fake stubbornness to appear resolute and faultless and brave; but Sasuke could see the uncertainty of the heart tripping and the lies quivering upon his tongue. His shadow had grown weaker, thinner before his own.

Susanoo came out of him, an airy ghost, ready to fend off his attacks, but a war was waging inside the old man's crooked form. A whirlwind of invigorating chakra from Hashirama's cells and Uchiha eyes sped through his body like fires. It went here and it went there, imbuing his old, old frame with a flame of youth. Bones shuddered, flesh quivered, and _all_ of his mortal coil sang in unison. _Bless the Sage! He was re-made!_

Danzō had asked Orochimaru to merge the intricacies of the _Byakugō Seal_ with the way Hashirama's cells worked. Potent Uchiha chakra was to become _that_ chemical of change. He felt himself come closer to his youth in the previous days: his muscles tightened, legs grew strong, body got robust; and if he was honest with himself, his penis was less shriveled and his scrotum, less loose. He even felt his cock harden at the smell that came from between Tsunade's thighs on that hot summer's day. These were sure signs of youth—they had to be!

And he smiled, and that elicited a frown and a feral growl from the young man. He had come to him with a thirst for vengeance in his breast, and Danzō knew he would not leave here without his head. _That makes two of us!_ he thought, triumphantly, for he had come prepared for this battle! The hot-headed youth, Uchiha Sasuke, would have to quench his own in the afterlife, after he reunited with his beloved brother!

Ah, such stabs of delight, from chakra fresh, went up and down his body and tightened into a hot ball inside his gut. His dusty-old frame metamorphosed and changed in the red of Sasuke's vision; and slowly, it began to slip back through Time to take on the form he once possessed: wrinkled skin grew taut, moulding itself to his muscles and bones so perfectly, as a wet dress does a gleaming flesh of youth.

Skin, such smooth skin, smoother than he had hoped, grew a little red with the blooming of heat—tricks of youth! He clenched his fingers into bone-hard fists, and his bones no longer ached. Surprise . . . that was all that was there in the youth's face, and the red was fading there fast. It probably could not fathom the sight of him—no one could! Danzō would triumph over him here and take his head through the Leaf's gates, with his own held up high.

Sasuke's face went from angry to curious, too curious. No longer did he look amazed, and there was this mad amusement in his face and eyes. They blazed red again, angry furnaces softened by an irresponsible love! Danzō could not understand how he did not see fear smeared on Sasuke's face and stabbed deep into his eyes. This youth would soon learn what it meant to be flippant in the face of death!

But Danzō did not seem to care. His youth was returning fast, striking at his heart to beat out a new and warm tune. The heat was unendurable. It cooked his loins, and he felt himself get hard as Konoha's _Stone Monument_ at the male-musk Sasuke exuded. It excited him! Itachi's face and tight buttocks came to his mind, and he had to admit that he felt _something_ for the young man ever since he laid his eyes on him—desires that attacked his genitals to give forth a little gush of arousal that was not enough to even wet the edge of his pinky-finger. Alas, how age failed men and cocks . . .

It was different now. The heat was strong, and his breast swelled with a triumphant laughter he could not contain any longer; but when he emitted it in a daze, his eyes went wide with shame: it was soft and lilting like a woman's! It rippled through the air, a soft musical note, and Sasuke's brows rose in such a bizarre expression—what was happening to him?

Danzō slapped the sides of his cheeks and found them to be soft and supple. Brushing his fingers over the sides, he realized that the hairs there were too small and fine to belong to a man. He slapped them again, just making sure, and felt them jiggle with youthful elasticity. They were soft like silk and rosy like petals and warm like freshly baked loaves of bread.

He looked down, eyes terror-struck, as fleshy round masses grew under his kimono. He snuck a gaze and watched them tighten into hard points at the peach crests. Was he even a man anymore? (Had he re-born as a _True_ hermaphrodite bisexual? Oh, no! Dear Sage, no!) He still had his cock (!) and . . . and he could not quite complete the thought as a limp thing slid down from between his thighs like a firm, hot stool. It fell down by his feet—and he heard a resounding thunk in his head, and his whole world went up in flames—carrying a copious amount of slime at the head. He finally made peace with himself that it was Itachi's Akatsuki cloak that day that had roused the infernal beast from him, not Tsunade's thighs. Danzō was made by Nature to be a make-believe lady's man, and a man's lady—no more, no less.

He breathed in deep at the sight of the beautiful Uchiha youth (ah, dearest Kami, he was truly beautiful!) and dust shot into his lungs, along with his decadent and sinful scent. Temptations attacked his heart, and he felt his slit quiver in need of the fattest Uchiha cock; his craze for the Uchiha eyes had taken a wonderful detour now! He had turned into a woman—a trollop in heat! If Hiruzen was seeing her now, and he better be, he would weep from his crown, too, at the sight of her desirous, feminine body plunging itself into the torments of flesh.

Danzō ripped open her kimono and revealed her tight form to the wind's caressing hands and Sasuke's appraising eyes: her skin was the colour of milk; her breasts were supple; her buttocks, round and firm; a string of mucus hung between the round flare of her inner-thighs. Was Sasuke satisfied that Danzō was in mad heat for him and his Uchiha cock?

Her concupiscent thoughts strayed from one thing to another, and she did not know when she closed that gap between them. Then she went down on her knees like a well-paid harlot to stare up at Sasuke's bearing that was as regal and fine as a deity's. Danzō was a lucky woman! The Sharingans in her arms slumbered now, over-taken and beaten into submission by womanly lust.

Danzō's hands shook as she reached for the purple rope-belt. She undid the hard knot and the cloth fell away. It was there in his pants, awaiting her touch. Craning her neck, she pouted and cast him a hesitant glance. It did not seem as though Sasuke wanted to stop her. Oh, the humiliation! She would have him in her mouth like a good little whore if that was the last thing she would ever do!

Danzō licked her plump lips, spit glazing them like candied strawberries, and unzipped the front of Sasuke's pants. The thing was just rousing out of its deep slumber at the sight of her: it needed the motivation! So she bent forward, brow knitting in concentration, and did what she had dreamt of doing to Itachi's baby-cock, which had yet to discover the wonders of erection when he first set foot in ANBU, all those moons past; her jaws opened wide the way a whale's did to gulp in tons of water, and in a second, they were on his ripe genitals.

Her face was level with the few coarse hair above Sasuke's shaft. Danzō was suckling it now, good and hard. She pulled her head back, relished the salty taste of youth in her mouth, recalled the spirit and exuberance of youth Gai always blabbered about. He was not wrong! Then she lifted her head to meet his iron-hot cock and sinuous lips slipped up his length; Danzō felt it press against her throat and she groaned.

When she caught the tender rim of his cock, a jet of semen hit the back of her throat. Her eyes were immense, sparkling. He gushed still more and held her head in place—hands wrapped tightly in her lush, curly hair as his cock hammered her throat raw. Her pink cheeks turned rounder, fuller with his arousal that went backwards and upwards into her nostrils. The white of him came out of her aquiline nose. Sasuke thrust with a quick and hard rhythm a few times, and his lips pressed together in concentration.

Danzō gagged around him, and her lust-filled, mischievous eyes rolled back into her head. The eye patch was stained with his semen now. Finally, Sasuke pulled back and dragged out long viscous strings of ejaculation from her mouth: a thick gob of it hung down from the tip of her small chin. He had spent himself in her good, but it was not fair. Danzō was still aching, needing between her legs; and she needed that cock inside her—now!

So she spun around and went down on all-fours and crawled backwards. Rubbing her engorged clit against his taut crown, she let out a crazed cry in anticipation and shook her buttocks like a bitch-in-heat. Her lips were big and fat, wet with lust—slit ready to take _all_ of him in!

Sasuke obliged; he, too, went down on his knees, instinct guiding him, grabbed hold of her cushy buttocks, and pushed his hips forward. He sank deep into Danzō's warm and wet hole. Cries tore from her throat, spit and semen flying out from her mouth.

Her corpulent breasts bounced from his movements; she grunted and felt his surges from the deep recesses of her hot cunt. Sasuke was throbbing, thrusting furtively with pure animal instinct. His hands roamed the soft expanse her buttocks, and then he smacked her hard. The cheek jiggled and turned radiant; she moaned and sensed vibrations travel through her in quick successions.

Danzō's pussy quivered—Sasuke plunged in deeper and deeper still. He bent forward, and his hands slid down to rest on her waist. The curve in her back deepened, and sweat collected into the hollow as she pressed her breasts against the dusty stone-bridge. Translucent droplets rolled down to increase the moisture between her buttocks. He slapped her again at the same spot, and the mark glared against glistening white.

Each of Sasuke's powerful thrusts, as rapid as lightning, propelled her forward; and, in pleasure, her body shook frantically. He was close—so close. Her breasts bounced wildly, dotted with innumerable beads of sweat that splashed off her slick skin to fall down on the stone-bridge. It was a decisive battle and he had won and he had gone in deep and he had done her in; and she was his whore, his _bitch_ for life!

She won—she won! In a mad dash to stake a claim over the finest Uchiha youth's genitals, she had beaten the pink-haired bitch and the red-haired creep and the yellow-haired cunt, Naruto! The thought filled her with so much pride. Fresh was the taste of Uchiha cock on her tongue, sweetened by whimpers on her lips. Orochimaru may have tricked Danzō in hopes of relishing a cruel joke, but she was not sorry! Sasuke's cock was hers, and her cunt of glory, his eternal dumpster.

Sasuke pounded into her tight cunnie now. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes, pleasure flickering across his face. At last, he hit something deep inside her: Danzō's toes curled and she screamed and her cunt trembled around his pulsating cock. Another climax hit Sasuke like Susanoo's punch, and he saw his dead relatives break into a dance in his eyes. (Bless the Sage! The Uchiha semen had not gone to waste; there was yet hope for the clan's continuation beyond future Uchiha-duds like _Sarada!_ ) Sensing his impatience, she pulled her legs apart, and he slammed upwards one last time, his arousal gushing out of her cunt and sliding down her creamed thighs.

Potent Uchiha chakra went in deep, and the blinking eyes in her arm, together with the Mokuton chakra still slumbering in her body, reacted violently to the sudden intrusion. Sasuke's softening cock slipped down, and from her dripping cunt and her wrinkled arsehole came out twisted roots. They began to grow out of her toes, too.

Danzō was transforming after the high of the spill. Her mouth opened wide, and instead of a scream of contentment, out came more branches. Her small waist hardened and turned into a trunk; her legs were two thick branches burrowing their way into the stones to sow their love-seed . . . somewhere.

Sasuke zipped himself up and stepped back. The heat of a good rutting session was fading away. His Sharingan was out. He saw Mokuton overtake her whole body, and in mere seconds, Danzō turned into a lush tree that quivered in the breeze. Sasuke turned away with a distant countenance and stopped at the sight of Karin and Obito: hastily, they pulled their hands out of their pants, wiped them clean on their robes, and muttered out a hoarse ' _good job_ '.

It was a strange day . . .

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 **The End**


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